Maid To Order
by Ladytalon
Summary: Chuck has temporary amnesia, and John Casey's sense of humor takes full advantage of that fact.


He opens his eyes to see six people hovering over him. "Chuck?" three of them – all blonde women - ask.

"No, I don't feel sick….or maybe I do….I'll get back to you on that," he says dizzily, reaching a hand up to touch the side of his head – it feels like he's been run over by a Mack truck.

All six people reach out their hands, which seem to blend together strangely as they help him sit up. The three men stare at him in a vaguely threatening sort of way. "What the hell was that, Bartowski? Next time I have to tell you to stay in the car, I'll handcuff you to the fucking steering wheel!"

"Casey," all three women say disapprovingly as he collapses back to the pavement. They turn back to him. "That was a pretty strong blow you took, Chuck – are you sure you're all right? I think I'd better call someone to take a look at you."

"Who's Chuck? That's not my name," he insists, flinching away from the women as they touch the side of his head gently. "My name is….is…"

The three men start scowling even harder. "Snap the hell out of it, Bartowski – this isn't the time for your games."

"Where am I?" he wonders, blinking in confusion and cradling his head in his hands. When he feels well enough to look back up, he notices that only one of the men is still there with him. "Where'd the rest of you go?"

The big man shakes his head and looks over at where the blonde woman is talking on a cell phone a few feet away. "Agent Walker's calling for a doctor to meet us back at my apartment – let's go, unless your legs don't remember how to walk," he says snidely. "Figures you'd the one to come down with amnesia. I wish to hell _I_ had amnesia…"

"Agent…?"

He's favored with yet another glare – whoever the big guy is, he seems to have quite the repertoire – before getting hauled to his feet. "Sarah Walker."

"And you're…Chasey?"

"_Casey_," the other man says with a sigh. "I'll take the kid back, CIA," Casey calls to the blonde. _Sarah_, he corrects himself.

Sarah starts to lower her phone, trying her own scowl on for size. "Wait, I don't think that's such a good idea-"

"Yeah, because you had _such_ a good one when we brought him out here to begin with," Casey shoots back. "Let's go, Chuck."

"Why does everyone keep calling me that? I'm sure I've got a much cooler name than-_ow_," he complains when the larger man's hand clamps around his arm like a vise and tugs him along.

"Get in the car."

It's probably a good idea to do what the huge man says, so he obediently climbs into the black SUV and puts on his seatbelt as Casey circles around and opens the driver's side door. They drive in silence for a few minutes before he feels the overwhelming urge to talk again. "So, um, where are we going?"

"Back to my apartment."

"But I saw a movie about a girl with amnesia once, and-"

Casey looks over at him incredulously. "You can't remember your name, yet you can remember some movie you saw on Lifetime?"

He has the distinct feeling he was being mocked, and doesn't like it one bit. Some things just can't be erased from the mind; everyone knows that. "Geez, what is with you? I hope I regularly tell you what a douche you are, because-"

"I wish you'd forgotten how to talk," the big man sighs wistfully.

He folds his arms and glares out of the windshield, following Casey angrily when the man finally stops the car and orders him out, hustling him into an apartment filled with body armor, guns, and a framed photo of…is that Ronald Reagan? As Casey points to the sofa as if he's a dog who's expected to obey, he's had more than enough and rounds on the other man. "You're going to tell me who I am and what I'm doing here, or I'm calling the police!"

Casey raises his eyebrows and makes a moue with his lips. "Too bad that would require remembering the phone number."

"I'm serious, you can't-"

"Okay, okay…" Casey holds up his hands. "I'll tell you. I've been trying to ease you back into the whole thing, that's all."

Well, this is a certainly different approach. "What whole thing?"

Casey heaves a sigh. "Your name is Charles Carmichael, and you're…you're my…"

"Your _what?"_

"…my maid."

Of all the things he's been expecting, it certainly isn't this. "Your _what?_" he repeats, just in case he hasn't heard correctly. "I could have sworn you just said 'maid' a few seconds ago."

The big man sighs again. "This whole thing's my fault – I'm so sorry, Charles. If I'd known they'd go after you while you were dropping off my drycleaning, I…I… I'm so sorry," he finishes in a whisper, biting his lip and looking down at his knees. Casey's shoulders heave a few times, and he – Charles – feels compelled to do something to comfort the guy.

"Oh, well, that's…that's okay, you couldn't have known that they…" Charles (the name seems to fit) frowns suddenly. "Who's they, exactly, and why did they go after me?"

Casey looks up, wiping his eyes. Maybe he was a little hard on the man earlier – he's obviously so shook up by what happened at the drycleaners that he might not have realized how he was acting. "It was the Merry Maids, Charles – I knew they'd been acting funny these past few weeks, but I never thought they'd dare. I've always promised that I'd look after each member of my household staff." Casey looks away again, rubbing his hands over his face briskly and coughing. "I don't really want to talk about it – we've got you back now, and that's all that matters."

He'd never have pegged himself as a maid. "Well, uh, try not to think about it." _A maid?_

"I know I can't expect you to stay working for me after this, but… I don't suppose that you….for old time's sake…" Casey looks at him hopefully, and it's beyond him to resist those big blue eyes. What could it hurt?

"What, um, what would you like me to clean for you?"

Chuck opens his eyes to see Sarah sitting by his bedside. "Hey, you," he says groggily. "What happened?"

"Well, we had the doctor come take a look at you and he tried a few things to restore your memory." Sarah smiles down at him. "Looks like it worked."

"Yeah, guess it did…" Chuck sits up, blinking as the sun filtering through the shades hits his eyes. "How long have I been out?"

The beautiful blonde agent gives him another reassuring smile. "Just a few hours, that's all. You…._can_ remember everything, can't you?"

"I can remember everything about me being Chuck Bartowski who happens to have a government super-computer in my brain, yeah…" something else tickles the edges of his memory, but that's got to be just a dream so Chuck tries to ignore it. "So, did you manage to catch the bad guys after all?"

Sarah nods, standing to leave. "Casey tracked them down after I arrived to bring you back to your apartment….he said to give this to you, that you'd know what it meant," she says, reaching under her jacket and pulling something out to toss it on his bedspread. "I'll check in on you later, okay?"

"Yeah….yeah, sure."

Chuck stares at the pink feather duster, wondering just how he's going to get Casey back for this.

_fin_


End file.
